


Pendragon Racing

by FireAwayy



Series: Pendragon Racing [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Consensual, F/F, F/M, Get it?, Horses, Leon is long suffering, M/M, Merlin is a jockey, Rolling in the Hay, Sex, and french fries, arthur is a racing genius, elyan is a farrier because duh, gwaine is derping around doing shit, gwen is in there somewhere, he makes weight so shut up, i dont care if hes tall, i like cussing, lots of cussing, morgana is doing shit and buying horses and pissing uther off because of reasons, percy is a pony rider on a not so pony horse, racehorses, racing stables, so is lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireAwayy/pseuds/FireAwayy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pendragon Racing is one of the greatest racing stables in the world. Uther Pendragon has cases of trophies and made millions of dollars on his ability to win. Now his son Arthur is taking over, poised to become a great horseman and continue the legacy his father has begun.<br/>Excalibur is one of the greatest horses on the racing circuit, recovering from an injury and mean as hell. Can a gentle hand and the right jockey bring him back to greatness?<br/>And can an inexperienced Merlin with his big ears (are those really aerodynamic?) be the right jockey for the job?<br/>Can the two men keep their hands off each other long enough to get to the top?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pendragon Racing

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to start this fic off by saying I've lived on race tracks my entire life--my mom works there, I've worked at numerous ones and I've only ever owned retired race horses. So I'm trying to make this as accurate as physically possible without making it overly boring and suiting it to my fangirl needs. 
> 
> Also I've Americanized everyone because I am NOT going to offend and entire nation by attempting to be British. No thanks. 
> 
> So the horses in this fic are pretty cool, details below if you're overly curious. Each horse has a distinct personality to me that plays a role. 
> 
> This universe buried in like a tick so it's staying for a while, I promise you that. The story will continue as different parts as the universe comes to life. 
> 
> This was beta's (hallelujah) by my good friend but any mistakes that remain are mine alone, feel free to point them out or just share your opinions (always welcome) in the comments. Seriously let me know what you think. 
> 
> And remember: you are all fabulous motherfuckers.

Arthur plucked a stay piece of hay from his suit and flicked it down the well raked dirt aisle. The barn he was standing in was decked out in an array of red and gold—Pendragon Racing’s official colors. The horses stood quietly munching the hay hung outside their stalls. The horses were all sleek and well groomed with the best breeding and training money had to offer. Arthur had arrived at precisely ten o’clock so he could meet with his head trainer, Leon and discuss the recovery of their champion stallion Excalibur. 

“Arthur,” Leon said as he jogged down the dirt aisle way. Leon’s ginger curls were shoved underneath a baseball cap with the Pendragon logo on it and he wore a checkered t-shirt tucked into well-fitting jeans. Leon was the epitome of professionalism, something Arthur appreciated in a sport where people tended to take casual Fridays a little too seriously. 

Leon wiped a dirty hand across his forehead and smiled. “Sorry about being late—Kilgarrah was acting up again. He hates the heat.” 

Arthur nodded and straightened his tie. “Maybe stick Freya next to him? He’s always had a thing for her.” 

Leon arched his brow, he was constantly surprised by how much the owner knew about the horses. Arthur had always been a hands on owner, looking at stats and health records and demanding to be kept up to date with each new development. His father, Uther, had won the Triple Crown twice on two different horse’s only years apart. Uther had a keen eye for a good athlete and he only employed the best of the best to work in his stables—Pendragon racing was now the biggest racing stable in the US and one of the biggest in the world, only beat by two from Dubai. 

Leon turned and called out down the aisle. “Gwaine!” his soft voice somehow carrying past the whirring of fans and the soft snorting of horses. 

A young man’s head popped out from one of the stalls, his hands covered in thick poultice he had been rubbing on a horse’s leg. “Gwaine is out getting more shavings, sir.” 

“Oh,” Leon said looking disappointed that he couldn’t yell at Gwaine again. “Merlin would you go and put Freya next to Killy. Hopefully she’ll calm him down a bit.” 

The young man, Merlin, ducked out from under the stall guard and wiped his hands on his loose fitting jeans. Merlin was wearing a red polo with a gold dragon embroidered on the right shoulder, as was typical for any employee PR hired. His mop of dark unruly hair almost disguised the bright blue of his eyes as he disappeared down the barn aisle to halter up a petite blood bay. The mare was fit and tight, her steps quick and eager and her finely sculpted head lifted to sniff the air. Merlin had a gentle touch with the mare and he was quick to dodge her attempt to kick as he released her into the stall next to Kilgarrah. The gelding immediately settled and began eating his hay. 

Leon sighed. “Thank God. His constant screaming was giving me a headache. You should come around more often.” 

Arthur smiled softly. “I wish I could. Who was that?” he asked gesturing to the thin man hanging up the halter and gently patting Freya’s nose. 

“Who Merlin? He joined on about four weeks ago. Gaius’ grandson…he’s got a way with the horses, they love him. Damned good rider too, still an Apprentice though.” 

Arthur examined the muscles moving underneath the red polo, the wisps of hair tickling the back of his neck…skin ridiculously pale for the summer. Merlin’s jeans clung tightly, nothing indecent but Arthur could make out his ass from here and it did nothing to cool him off.

To put it mildly: Merlin was absolutely fuckable. 

“Does he race for us?” 

Leon shrugged. “He wants too. But hasn’t won a race yet…PR only hires winning Jockeys.” 

Arthur nodded. “Kind of tall to be a Jockey.” 

Leon laughed. “That he is. Taller than us both but not an ounce of fat on the kid, he makes weight. Merlin! C’mere.” 

Merlin looked up and walked to the two men. Leon was right, Merlin was inches taller than Arthur but narrow and willowy, almost fairy like if Arthur was in a fantastical mood. Merlin scuffed his beat up boots in the dirt and slipped his thin strong hands in his jeans, somehow looking up at Arthur from underneath long eyelashes. 

“Merlin this is Arthur Pendragon.” 

Merlin’s eyes widened a bit comically and he slowly wrapped his fingers around Arthurs and shook. The slim fingers had callouses from reins and from holding a pitchfork, muscles strong from pushing wheel barrows and lifting bags of shavings and bales of hay. Arthur was man enough to admit he was more than a little interested in the young man in front of him. It was probably the beginning of an unhealthy obsession. 

“Nice to meet you Merlin. Leon tells me you want to be a Jockey?” 

Merlin nodded. “Yes sir. Need a good record to get good horses, need good horses to get a good record.” He shrugged his thin shoulders and released Arthur’s hand. 

Arthur knew that was the way it worked on a race track, you had to earn every inch given to you and in a nanosecond everything you worked for could be gone. 

“Leon, who do we have riding Freya in tomorrow’s race?”

The head trainer cocked his head and studied Arthur’s face for a long moment. “Cenred….since Excalibur’s been out he’s been riding the others. Why?” 

Arthur crossed his arms and gave his best ‘I’m the owner that’s why’ look. “Put Merlin on her.” Merlin choked somewhere to his right and spluttered something but Leon’s alarmed look made Arthur smile. “Freya should be winning every race we put her in. Are you denying that she hasn’t been running up to her potential?” 

Leon’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, no. She hasn’t been running as well as she could…” 

Arthur pressed on. “Why do you think that is? Freya is a sensitive mare, she needs to be handled delicately. Cenred is a brute in the saddle, which works okay for the Geldings and Stallions but not Freya. Merlin’s got a way with her, put him in the saddle Leon.” 

Arthur made up his information on the spot—in reality he wanted to watch Merlin in action. See if this young man was worth his curiosity. But as he talked he realized he was right, and subconsciously he was thinking that all along. Excalibur used to be well behaved—easy to load in the gate and easy to handle after the race. But Cenred got him so revved up he started rearing and bucking, sending the tiny man flailing to the ground more than once. Freya, or Lady of the Lake, was far more delicate than Excalibur. She simply didn’t tolerate the rough treatment and didn’t run, finishing sixth or worse in every recent race.

“Uhh, yes sir. Do…do I need to mention this to Uther?” Leon asked timidly, referring to the daily emails he sent Uther in regards to training and horses. 

“No, if you don’t mind. I have a hunch Leon, and you know how Father hates change. But if we get the result I think we will…he won’t have a choice.” He patted both men on the shoulder. “I expect great things, men.” 

 

Arthur turned and walking into the track office, embracing the AC taking a seat in his swivel chair. His father would not be pleased. Arthur shrugged the thought off and pulled out his phone. Facebook popped up and the keys clicked as his fingers raced over the keys. He typed in 'Merlin' and tapped his feet as he waited for the info to appear. 

 

Outside Merlin looked over at Leon. “Is anyone going to ask me what I want?” 

Leon laughed. “Kid I don’t know why but you just got the opportunity of a lifetime Don’t fuck up.” 

 

“If you keep that up you’ll wither away. Have a French fry.” Gwained waved the friend potato in the air, making a fanning motion towards Merlin who was doing situps.

Gwaine was perched on the back of a truck stacked with feed bags and eating lunch out of a greasy paper bag, Merlin was huffing and puffing on the hot asphalt below Gwaine’s dangling feet. The two men took thirty minutes for lunch every day and tried to find a shady spot to escape the blistering heat of summer. But today Merlin said he needed to stay out in the sun and sweat. 

“Merly please. Arthur Princess Pendragon asked you to ride his godamn horse.” 

“So?” Merlin asked through gritted teeth as he pulled himself up into another situp. 

“So he clearly doesn’t think you’re too fat, man. Eat something…you’re making me feel like a pig sitting up here and eating all alone.” 

Merlin snorted and refrained from saying anything. Just like this morning when he found himself tongue tied in Arthur’s presence. The man was walking sex and it did things to Merlin’s tongue…well his brain told his tongue all the fun things it could be doing and his tongue decided that they were good ideas. Merlin, who was usually chatty and cursed like a sailor, found himself silent and more than a little shy. 

“I’ve gotta make weight Gwaine.”  
Gwaine sighed and laid back in the bed of the truck, squirming until he found himself in a comfortable position. “You know why he gave you the race right?” 

Merlin stopped in mid situp. “What are you talking about?” 

Gwained snorted and threw down a french fry. “Eat one or I won’t tell you.” 

“That’s blackmail!” 

“Isn’t it great? So much easier.” 

Merlin grumbled and picked the fry up off his belly and popped it into his mouth. “Happy twat?” 

“Hurtful Merlin.” Gwaine scolded with his eyes closed. “Merlin he gave you the ride because Freya likes you and hates that asshole Cenred. She practically melts into your hands like putty, they all do. You’re magical with a horse, dude.” 

Merlin sighed and laid back on the asphalt throwing a pale arm over his eyes. “He hasn’t seen me ride, Gwaine. I haven’t had a real race in…months. And that was on that Quarter Horse who pulled a tendon halfway through.” 

Gwaine tossed another French fry down and Merlin gave in and ate it. “Merly, listen to me good here ok? I’m a fat bugger who can’t do shit except what I do here, and I’m cool with it man. But you? You’re gonna be some famous shit head who forgets the ones who muck your stalls. And that’s cool. But you gotta own it. Remember, you’re a fabulous motherfucker.” 

Merlin laughed and smacked Gwaine’s boot. “You think it’ll be ok?” 

Gwaine laughed. “Hell yeah.” 

 

 

Merlin poked his head into Freya’s stall and watched her steady breathing lift her belly and slowly fall. Her slim legs were tucked under her body and her nose rested in a nest of shavings as her eyelids fluttered. Merlin crossed his arms and rested his head against them as he took in all her sleek lines and memorized every muscle. 

Freya was beautiful to look at—tall, sleek, agile, athletic, and finely built like a porcelain doll. But when the gates opened she took off like a bat out of hell, ears pressed flat to her head and legs flinging out in front of her to gain ground, nostrils curled anticipation. 

Freya began to stir and Merlin stepped back and took a deep breath. Leon had told him that Freya like to get to the front first and stay there, but to check her speed so she doesn’t waste her energy. Merlin’s fingers itched to get a hold of the reins and slip his feet into the stirrups. He closed his eyes and pictured the race…and Arthur’s cocksure smile as he made up his mind to give Merlin this opportunity. 

Please God, Merlin prayed, please give me the ability to ride to the best of my ability to win and not think about my employer’s fine ass. Very fine ass. 

 

Leon tentatively knocked on the office door and stepped in, embracing the AC as it soaked through his wet t-shirt. 

“Arthur, what the hell? I like Merlin, a lot, don’t get me wrong. But Jesus he has no experience on a horse of that caliber. Freya…she’s sensitive, I’ll agree and she likes the kid well enough but…that hardly matters in the thick of it.” 

Arthur leaned back in his chair and subtly slid his phone back into his pocket. “Leon I want him for Excalibur.” 

Leon paled and his eyes nearly bugged out. Arthur pictured them rolling around on the floor and under the desk…sometime the barn cat would find them and some hapless groom would find the cat playing with them. 

Arthur shuddered. 

“I never said anything permanent…just maybe think about it? Start putting him on some of the nicer horses and we’ll just see, ok? Excalibur hasn’t been performing up to par and this injury…” 

Leon sighed and took a seat opposite Arthur. “A pulled suspensory sucks, Arthur, it just does but it’s not Cenred’s fault.” 

“No, but Cenred put him right in the middle of the pack where he hates to be and pushed him.” 

“He won.” Leon offered. 

“Yeah, he won one race and lost how many in his recovery? Leon we need a jockey who thinks and who understands the horse not just bullies them.” 

Leon was quiet for a long moment, not disagreeing. He took his time to study the cheap wooden panels nailed up along the wall and the tiny grungy window that was stuck from so many dead fly carcasses no one had opened it for years. 

“Your father hired Cenred, you know I don’t have the power to pull him off horses. I’ve made recommendations before but he doesn’t listen.” 

Arthur nodded and glanced at the white board. Each horses name was listed along with their exercise regimen, race schedule, and other health related information. “No, not right away. Ex still has a month left of rest before we bring him back. Get Merlin on Freya and some of the other horses, maybe Killi he’s as hard as they come he’ll teach him how to ride. Once Ex is back we’ll tackle my father.” 

Leon nodded. “You know Arthur you’ve always been involved with the horses, been a good owner. But just now? You sounded like a great one. Wish you’d stick around.”  
Arthur stood and looked out the grungy window, he could see Merlin loading bales of hay in the distance, shirtless and sweaty. “Maybe I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Excalibur- "Ex" Chestnut stallion and the pride of Pendragon Racing. Mean as a snake and an almost violent competitor.  
> Lady of the Lake- "Freya" Blood bay mare. Delicate and sensitive but a fierce race horse. She takes shit from no jockey.  
> Killgarah- "Killi" Dappled Grey gelding. Leon's personal hellion. Hasn't quite found his stride in racing but raises a lot of hell. Enjoys cuddles.  
> Aithusa- "Momo" Snow white despite her age Morgana's pet project, a horse Uther rejected as being too small. She bought the horse and races the mare under her own name. Just coming 3 the mare is beginning to get some notice and beating the boys.  
> Hammer- Percy's pony horse, the only horse who will take Ex's shit. Jumbo sized Percheron with an easy going personality. Gwaine swears he has eyebrows that raise in disapproval at horses that act up at the gate.


End file.
